


Over a Cup Of Coffee

by thatdragonchic



Series: How I Imagined It [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Stydia, Stydia fluff, cute stydia, idk - Freeform, just cute things, omg, stydia things, they're in a diner, this is as close to a coffee shop au i'll ever write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-23 01:21:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7461036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdragonchic/pseuds/thatdragonchic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles likes to keep some things hidden but when Lydia shows up at the local diner unexpected, she joins Stiles while he's in the zone writing. She learns a lot about him while he's not even paying any real attention to her- and all over a cup of coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over a Cup Of Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> This was a cute filler idea just to introduce some things for later parts of the series! Much shorter than part 1 but part 3 is already 15 pages, but I thought this was a cute in between!  
> ALSO this was inspired by Alex, my smol patoot on tumblr and this was born of our headcanons that Stiles is a writer by night (or... personal time) and pack member all other times of the day

_ -I might have thought otherwise to the given progress that all things surreal are somehow real. It’s the inverse of the definition of uncanny and though I haven’t exactly told you about it yet, it’s there. Subtly, between the lines, it, along my suffering, is there. _

 

Nobody would have took him for it but Stiles amounted to be quite the writer. Unlike Lydia who could draw and Scott who was good with animals and people alike, Stiles was rather talented in venting his emotions, his findings and his secrets through his work, often written down on paper. He had his laptop open just in case, lists of words up, pens splayed on the table and the waitress came around for his order and he shrugs, glancing through the menu before settling on just a slice of chocolate cake and a hot black coffee with five spoons sugar and whip cream. HIs pen taps endlessly on the paper, rereading his past six pages, using white out to correct things in scrawled handwriting, red pen for pointers, purple pen for notes, sparkly sky blue pen because it was pretty (also for grammar) and pink highlighter for things he wanted to expand on/note of regarding symbolism and of the such.

He had it all planned out, it was what he always did. Stiles clicks out the page and into tumblr, a message having popped up in his inbox where Stiles then clicks it- his friend Blake having messaged him about something. Stiles is quick to type back before returning to the main front and scrolling past the very visual sex gif on his dash to a more people friendly star wars post that nobody would bother to read, he then switches back to one of his documents, containing character names and style consistency tips that he wrote out. What Stiles doesn’t notice is his newly acclaimed girlfriend, hanging out by the counter squinting at him. 

 

Lydia Martin had walked in, hungry as ever and waiting to order when she spots her boyfriend across the room at a round, booth like table, all his things sprawled over it. Her mom was away for a few days for a school convention for the counselors, and she was a horrible cook with no where that she felt like she really had to turn. She had tried contacting Stiles but he hadn’t replied to any of her texts- she thought maybe he was just busy and proving that he was immersed in something but his phone was just a few inches away from him- didn’t he see her texts? Couldn’t he tell her he was at least busy? 

The more she watched him, the more oblivious she thought he could be. What was he even doing and why were there so many notebooks? All the pens and the colors… was he solving something? The Dread Doctors were gone and everything was in a state of peace- she couldn’t imagine what he could be doing. It was starting to grind her nerves a little, watching him with such an intensity and he didn’t even seem to notice her at all. She thought she was his, that she would never go unnoticed when in the same room as him. But here they were… here she was, though her bitterness gets the better of her and when the hostess finally returns, Lydia explains that she was meant to be at the corner table with the young man and that he was expecting her. She seems a bit conflicted but after a moment resigns to agreement and brings her over, waiting until Stiles looks up and sees Lydia.

“She says you were expecting her?” the woman says in Polish and Stiles looks to Lydia before smiling and nodding.

“Hey there you,” he greets when Lydia sits down and the hostess leaves.

“What are you doing?” she asks, giving him no space to think and he blinks before laughing and shrugging, though Lydia’s cheeks heat up slightly at her sudden outlash at him. “I mean… You haven’t been answering your texts.”

“I’ve been a little bit busy, normally when I do this I turn my phone on silent… sorry babe.”

_ Babe.  _ That made her heart flutter but she was intent on showing him that she wasn’t very happy with being ignored. “What are you  _ working  _ on exactly?”

Stiles hesitates and he shrugs again, thanking the waitress as she comes with his french vanilla coffee with whip cream on top and a slice of cake. “Can I take your order ma’am or do you need another moment?”

“Another moment please?”

The woman nods and turns to leave. Lydia turns back to Stiles who let’s out a very, very long sigh. “It’s… just… stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” she tries to peak over and he places his arms over it to cover and she can see the blush on his cheeks. “What is it? Oh come on, are you writing steamy sex scenes or something?”

“No!” He defended a bit too loud before slumping into his chair a bit. “No,” he repeats softly. “I am not writing steamy sex scenes. It’s just… a novel I’ve been working on,” he reluctantly admits and Lydia seems amused.

“Can I see?”

“I don’t like to show people.”

“Why not?” 

“It’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous about writing?”

“I don’t  _ know.  _ Maybe it’s more personal than ridiculous but it’s not open to the public regarding criticism. You are not allowed to see.”

“Is it open to your girlfriend, regarding her just wanting to read it?”

He sips at his coffee, licking a small dollop of whip cream. “Why do you want to see it so bad?”

“Because… I don’t know, I always tell you my crazy math theorums and stuff.”

“We’ve only been dating two weeks.”

“We’ve been friends three years.”

“Okay… but math is different.”

“No it’s not. My theorums are not open to the public for critism yet. Just you.”

Stiles pouts but doesn’t stop her when she takes the notebook. “Where does it start?” she asks and he looks perplexed.

“The beginning of the notebook?”

Lydia blinks, looking at the six subject notebook. “How long have you been writing this?” she asks a tint of pride in her voice, he looked unamused. 

“A month or two.”

Lydia nods and turns to the front page. He had a weird, sloped kind of handwriting but it was one she knew well and though it was scratchy, it wasn’t impossible to read.  _ This all started when I lost my mind- you’ll never know the precise, the detailed, the exact, but that’s where we begin and that’s the story that you’re about to hear. What’s going to be told to you is all entailing much wilder, much great, much more unbelievable things that you yourself could never understand, which is why I’m not going to tell it to you.  _

“Ma’am are you ready to order?” The waitress asks and Lydia looks up and Stiles smiles.

“She wanted a bleu burger with sweet potato fries,” Stiles says for her, knowing she hasn’t even glanced at the menu. “And a vanilla ice cream soda.”

“Alright,” the waitress says, writing it all down before turning and walking away, Lydia raising a brow.

“I know you well enough, you like fancy cheese, burgers, and fancy bread. That’s all three in one. You also love sweet potato fries and also Ice Cream Soda’s are what dreams are made of.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m aware of that.” Stiles pulls his laptop closer and switches out to one of his other tabs when his phone lights up with a phone number he’s never seen before, Stlies noticing and grabbing the phone after a moment, putting an earphone in, he answers.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Stiles Stilinski?”

“This is he, yes. Who’s this?”

“I’m Brandy White. See, I was talking to Mrs. Quincy and she’s made me aware of your talent with handling children- you tutor don’t you?”

“Yes, uhm I tutor a few times a week at the local library with groups but I also do private sessions.”

“What do you think is better?”

“Well in the groups I tutor things to more broad definitives and homework help, though it’s a cheaper solution, and only twenty dollars per session, so three times a week, that’s sixty dollars every week. Though for personal tutoring, I do put in my whole effort- I give them specialized lessons and planning, work that enhances their knowledge beyond their homework. I do like worksheets, written assignments and in session projects or work that will help the understand the areas their struggling in. Also for things like math, I apply it to more real world situations and concepts, so it’s not just equations on sheets of paper.”

“Oh my, what a special young man you are! How old do you take up to?”

“Well I’m best with ages 2 through 10 years old, but I will teach up to 14 years old but beyond that they could go to my free sessions after school Tuesday and Thursday with the high school because those are my community service hours. Though anybody over ten normally I’ll take a larger pay for-”

“And what are your prices for private tutoring again?”

“Right, uhm, so private tutoring  _ starts  _ at fifty dollars because it’s a lot more materials and work that I have to put in. Uhm… depending on how many sessions a week you want, my availability and time, I have to see where it works out and everything. Also the first session is thirty dollars because we just kind of talk and get to know each other, or if it’s a really young child, I have to sit down with you and get to know you and all. Though for kids older than 10, I normally start fifty-five dollars and prices range up, depending on where they need help and what I need to help them.”

“Ahh Alright. Do you think you could start soon?”

“What are the names of your kid or kids and how old are they?” Stiles asks, opening up an excel spreadsheet and his fingers preparing to type.

“I have avery who’s four and Kyle who’s seven.”

Stiles nods, typing up the names and ages. “Alright. And uhm, you want me to tutor both?”

“Would you mind?”

“Not at all! What’s a date and time that best suits you?”

“Would saturday around five o’clock work?”

Stiles nods. “Yeah that works fine.”

“And you also babysit?”

“Uhhmmm sometimes. It really depends,” Stiles says, glancing to Lydia who’s turning another page in his notebook, eyes scanning and he could tell she was really taking in every word. Stiles lifts the cup and sips.

“Alright, we’ll talk later then?”

“Yes of course! And reach out to me if anything comes up at all.”

“Alright, enjoy your evening!”

“You too ma’am.” 

Stiles hangs up and Lydia looks up, edging over to him and kissing him on the lips. “I didn’t know you ran a  _ business, _ ” she teases. 

“It’s not a  _ Business.  _ It’s work.”

“That you do and put together yourself. A business.”

“It’s more a service.”

“Whatever you want to call it. I still say it’s a business.”

“Alright, whatever you say.”

She smiles and kisses his cheek. “You’re a good writer you know.”

Stiles melts into a smile and kisses her softly on the lips. “It’s a secret though, you can’t tell anybody it exists.”

She nods. “It’s a done deal.” She pulls him into another kiss and he figures he probably won’t get any more work done if this keeps going on, though he also figures they’re going to get kicked out if they keep schmoozing like this. He parts when she leans back and smiles. “We’re in public.”

“I am owed a make out session at home. Gonna charge me for it?”

“Making out with me is a privilege you know.” He winks and she pushes him off, smiling as the waitress returns with her drink and Lydia smiles back, thanking her. 

“The food should be done in a minute,” the waitress assures and they both nod, Stiles taking another bite of his cake. The fork slides through his mouth, his tongue is quick to remove the chocolate filler from his lips and his fork dives in for another piece. Lydia watches the action with intent before turning back to the pages. 

_If there was anybody to ever trust with your whole life, it was your best friend. They would_ ** _never betray you_** ** _(make a defining arc in rewrite- best friends betray you even when you think they won’t)_** _nor would they ever abandon you for the word of another, because they’re your best friend, they’re your everything. If they don’t believe you, who will?_

Lydia winces at the angry scribbles that are above the words and between the lines. The doubts, the small blurbs, the change in dialogue, how further on, the dialogue was whited out. Lydia glances to Stiles who’s sipping his coffee and happily working on a pdf file on his computer, a novel of some sort, while he reads. She looks back to the page and thinks that- there’s so much he lets out to the pages, things that he doesn’t want anybody to see, and it all happens over a cup of coffee and the company of an empty booth. 


End file.
